


Apt 303

by killingsaray



Category: Vis a Vis | Locked In (Spain TV)
Genre: Enemies to Lovers, F/F, New Neighbors AU, Rizay, Zuray Friendship, Zurena, does this count as an anger bang?, fast burn, like probably a little too fast, like slow down you horny bitches
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-12-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:54:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25830001
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/killingsaray/pseuds/killingsaray
Summary: “ She takes in Maca‘s satin nightie, eyes roaming from the slides with a strip of tan fluff on her manicured feet up her bare legs and to the thin straps of black satin that draped perfectly over Maca’s petite frame.“Yeah, we didn’t order a stripper, rubía.”ORThe one with the new neighbors who rub Maca the wrong way.
Relationships: Estefanía ‘Rizos’ Kabila/Saray Vargas, Zulema Zahir/Macarena Ferreiro
Comments: 57
Kudos: 269





	1. Cold Hallways

**Author's Note:**

> thanks to a prompt on the au_ideas twitter account!

Maca groans and rolls over in bed. Blue-green neon numbers nearly blind her as she tries to read 01:21 through one squinting eye. The thumping bass from a stereo system that seems to vibrate through her ceiling was one thing. But the thumping of what must be ten sets of feet tell Maca that their new upstairs neighbors are throwing a party. 

_ Who the fuck throws a party on a weeknight? _

In a huff, Maca yanks her covers off, slips on a pair of slippers and storms through her apartment. Down the hall, she goes, cutting on small lights before undoing the chain and deadbolt locks. The dimly lit hallway is chilly compared to the warmth of her bed, but her anger keeps her heated as Maca makes her way up the flight of stairs. It’s not hard to find the apartment where the music is coming from because the moment she steps before it, roaring laughter penetrates the wooden walls as one song stops and another more uptempo one starts. 

Maca knocks on the door of flat 303. 

Nothing. 

She tries again. 

Still no answer. 

Finally, she resorts to using her fist to bang on the door loudly, praying that she doesn’t wake other neighbors in the process. 

A raven-haired woman in an oversized hoodie and dark makeup opens it and lets out a small puff of laughter. She takes in Maca‘s satin nightie, eyes roaming from the slides with a strip of tan fluff on her manicured feet up her bare legs and to the thin straps of black satin that draped perfectly over Maca’s petite frame.

“Yeah, we didn’t order a stripper,  _ rubía _ . Maybe try to frat boys down the hall.” She starts to close the door only for Maca’s hand to reach out and slam against it, keeping it open. 

“I’m not a stripper and I am  _ not _ in the mood. Some of us are productive members of society that need to be awake in five hours to get ready for our work day. Keep it down.”

Her brunette counterpart cocks an eyebrow and looks annoyingly entertained by Maca. 

“Yeah, that sounds like a ‘ _ you _ ’ problem. We won’t apologize for knowing how to truly live our lives despite tomorrow being a work—.”

“Yo, Zule, is it the pizza?” A taller brunette appears behind Maca’s new arch nemesis and drapes herself, chin resting on her shoulder. “Whoa, you are  _ not  _ the pizza guy.”

Maca crosses her arms over her chest, suddenly feeling completely exposed. She really would have thought this through a bit better if she knew she was going to be standing in this hallway for so goddamn long. 

“No,  _ rubíta _ , here, is a disgruntled neighbor.”

“Ah shit. Sorry, we can turn the music down if—.”

“No, we can’t,” Zule replies, “until, she asks nicely.”

“Come on, Zulema, be nice. We have to make nice with our new neighbors. We’re gonna be here for awhile.” The taller brunette says and sticks out a hand for a shake. “Saray Vargas. And the moody badass here is my flat mate, Zulema Zahir.”

Clearly, Saray is the level-headed one and Maca decides that maybe she’s not so bad, so she shakes her hand. “Macarena Ferreiro. I live directly below you guys.”

“Sorry about the noise. We’ll try to keep it down.” Saray says.

“That’s all I ask.” Maca replies with a small smile. “Thank you.”

She turns and starts back down the hall to the staircase, only to be stopped in her tracks. 

“ _ Oye, rubía _ ,” calls Zulema.

“ _ Qué _ ?” Maca turns to look at her. 

“Maybe next time you should throw on a robe. Gets a little chilly in the hallway, no?” Zulema uses her hands to gesture at her own bust area, hidden under her hoodie. Maca looks down to see her nipples have hardened to become two peaks poking through the satin of her nightie. She scoffs in annoyance and crosses her arms. When she turns back around, she hears Saray snort her laughter and then the door slams closed once more.

Back in her own flat, Maca huffs and locks the door and turns off the lights she’s turned on. She heads to the kitchen and pulls a mug from the cabinet. Slipping it onto the Keurig machine, she waits for the hot water to fill the mug so she can have a nice cup of tea. 

“Hey, I thought I heard you in here.” 

Maca jumps at the quiet voice of Estefanía, her flat mate. 

“Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.”

Maca waves it off and holds up the mug she has just dipped a teabag into. Estefanía shakes her head, curly hair bouncing back and forth softly. 

“Sorry if I woke you up.”

“Who could sleep with that racket from upstairs?”

“I know! I went up there to ask them to keep it down.”

Estefanía’s eyes balloon in size. “You didn’t! What did they say?”

“One was super rude and the other was kind of nice.” In between sips of her lavender and chamomile tea, Maca tells her friend the story of meeting Zulema and then Saray. 

“What are we thinking? Are they best friends? Lovers? Family?”

Maca laughs. “Stef, I don’t know. All I know is,” she stops speaking for a moment and looks up at the ceiling, considering something, “that it’s gotten quiet enough that we should try to get some sleep now.”

“Good point.”

Maca slips the mug into the sink and rounds the kitchen island. She presses her cheek against her friend’s, makes a small “mwah” noise and heads down the hall, tossing a sleepy “night!” over her shoulder. 

* * *

Maca sits through two boring meetings at work the next day, yawning through the first and downing a venti coffee before the second. At lunch, she’s on her third cup of coffee. And by the end of the day, her leg bounces as she watches the clock slowly tick down from 16:57… 58… 59. 

And the moment she sees 17:00, she logs out of her computer, snatches up her handbag and clocks out for the day. 

If she’s lucky, she’ll be able to take a nap before Estefanía arrives home, raring to go for a night out on the town. When she gets home, Maca stops at the mailboxes, grabs the few bills left inside and heads upstairs. She unlocks the front door and when she pushes it open, she hears her friend’s loud, bubbly laughter. 

And then the laughter of someone else. 

Maca drops her keys and mail on the welcome table and hand and heads down the small corridor to the living room. 

“Maca! Hey! This is—.”

“Saray Vargas, 303. Yeah, I remember.”

“Oh, that’s right, you two met already.”

Saray stands from the sofa. “I should go, but I’ll see you guys tonight, yeah?”

“Yeah, definitely. We’ll be there.”

“Be where?” Maca asks. 

“Oh, Saray and Zulema own Del Sur.”

“Wait, the bar just off of Goya street?”

Saray grins. “That’s the one.” 

“We’ve been trying to get in there for months. Every time we go, there’s a line around the corner,” Maca admits.

“Well, it’s your lucky night.” Saray tells her. “Just walk past the line and tell security you’re on the list.”

“Cool. Thanks.” 

“It’s the least we can do. We got off on the wrong foot, so hopefully we can start over.”

Saray seems sincere, so Maca nods with a small smile. 

“Alright. Walk me out, Rizos?” Saray asks. She and Estefanía head down the hall and a few moments later Maca hears the door shut, followed by her roommate’s footsteps.

“So,” Maca says, brows up, “ _ Rizos _ , huh?”

Estefanía shrugs and sits on the arm of the couch. “What? She likes my curls.”

“Mm. I think she likes much more than your curls.” Maca teases. 

“She’s cute, huh?”

Maca’s smile deepens. “Oh, I see.”

“See what?”

“You like her too.”

The curly-haired woman slides down the arm of the sofa until she’s lying on the cushions. “I don’t know. Maybe. She’s funny and cute and—.”

“You  _ liiike _ her!” Maca sing-songs. 

“Please tell me you’ll come out with me tonight.”

Maca pretends to think. A little too long for Estefanía’s liking. 

“ _ Please _ !”

“Okay! Okay!” Maca laughs. “I’ll go, but if we run into her little evil elf of a flatmate, I can’t promise I’ll be nice.”

“Deal.”


	2. Taste

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *unedited

Originally advertised and opened as a sports bar, Del Sur is nothing like what Macarena thinks it will be. In her mind’s eye, she envisions a smoky hole-in-wall bar packed with university students looking for cheap, watered down drinks and a free place to watch their beloved sports teams. What she gets instead is a modern bar that doubles as a nightclub, complete with funny neon lights throughout that kindly reminds patrons to refrain from doing coke in the bathroom and that only good vibes would be accepted. 

Reggaeton is pumping through the speakers when Macarena and Estefanía are permitted entry. 

“Holy—.”

“Shit.” Estefanía finishes for her. 

“This place is sick.”

“Ladies,” the bouncer who let them in calls, “your VIP section is to the left.”

Maca and Estefanía look at one another, clearly impressed.

“If you don’t sleep with her, I will,” jokes Macarena. Estefanía laughs and tugs on Maca’s hand as they push their way through the crowd to the lofted VIP section. They climb the stairs and take a seat in the middle of the black leather U-shaped couch. 

“This entire VIP section to ourselves?” Maca says, her voice competing with the music. “They’ve gotta be losing profits.”

“We’re worth it.”

They are soon interrupted by a waitress who places a glass carafe of ice water in the center of their table along with two cocktail glasses.

“Ladies, I’m Luna, I’ll be your server tonight. Just so you ladies know, everything you order tonight is on the house by request of the owners. What can I get you started with?”

“Oh, no, that’s not necessary. We can pay.” Maca tells her. 

Luna simply shrugs. “I just follow the rules, hon. What can I getcha?”

They order drinks and tapas from the menu that Luna brings them and in almost no time at all, she returns with everything.

“Enjoy, ladies!” And she leaves them to it. 

* * *

Maca and Estefanía are two drinks in and mid-laugh when they hear, “Ladies, enjoying yourselves?”

Saray is climbing the stairs of their VIP section. She unbuttons the blazer of her wine-colored suit to reveal a black button up and tie combo, as she takes a seat beside Estefanía. 

“Saray, this place is amazing.” Maca says. 

“Thank you.”

“It really is. I’m impressed.” Estefanía adds. 

Saray looks her up and down, eyeing Estefanía as if she’s a full-course meal and Saray is starving. “If you want,” offers Saray, “I can give you the grand tour.”

Maca turns towards the crowd of dancing bodies to hide her smirk. Saray was about as subtle as a brick through glass. 

“Saray, you have to let us pay for our drinks at least.”

“No way. Our treat. It’s the least we can do for keeping you ladies up last night.”

“Well, thank you,” Maca says. “If we can do anything in return—.”

“Like borrow some brown sugar?” Saray asks and is, once again gazing into Estefanía’s eyes. 

“So this is where the party is.” A husky voice comments. Three sets of eyes shoot to the stairs and Zulema is walking up to stand before them. She looks good in a black blazer that makes Macarena’s head tilt because under the dark strobing lights she’s almost sure she can make out a printed pattern in it. 

_ Nice _ , Macarena thinks as she takes in her cropped suit pants, Doc Martens, and the silver chain hung from what Maca assumes are two belt loops.

“Zulema, right?” Maca’s flatmate greets the brooding brunette, holding her hand out. “Estefanía Kabila.”

Zulema’s eyes squint just a bit, but still, she reaches out and shakes it. 

“Zulema Zahir.” Her dark green eyes sweep over to take in Macarena and the ghost of a smirk tugs at the corner of her lips. 

“Saray, can I talk to you for a minute?”

“That means I’m in trouble,” Saray sighs theatrically, standing from her seat. “If you ladies will excuse me.”

The two brunettes walk down the stairs and Zulema pulls her to the side, out of their sight. 

Except not completely out of Macarena’s peripheral. 

From her angled seat on the sofa, she can  _ just _ see over the glass ledge to where Saray and Zulema are standing. 

Zulema looks annoyed. She’s talking with her hands, one arm stretching out in the general direction of Macarena and Estefanía. Then Saray appears as if she’s trying to explain something to Zulema, both hands reaching out and tugging on the lapels of Zulema’s black suit. 

Maca smirks as she barely makes out Saray’s parting words, “ _ Relaja la raja _ ,” before turning heading back towards the VIP booth. The blonde turns her head so as not to be caught snooping and instead busies herself with making another drink from the vodka bottle and carafe of orange juice on the table. 

“Rizos!” Saray calls from the bottom step. She looks over and Saray beckons her over with two fingers. 

“Will you be okay for a couple of minutes?”

Macarena smiles. “Go. Have fun.”

Rizos’ smile brightens and she leaves the VIP section with Saray who leaves Zulema with an encouraging word and a playful smack on her ass. 

Whatever she says makes Zulema exhale a wry laugh and give a slight shake of her head. Macarena watches in amazement as Zulema looks at her, straightens her posture, steels her expression and becomes an entirely different person in the blink of an eye. 

She heads up the stairs, slipping her hands into the pockets of her pants. Zulema lingers at the staircase for a moment before sitting diagonally across from Maca. 

“So,” says Maca. 

“ _ Joder _ ,” Zulema half-scoffs and half-laughs before turning towards the bar and signaling one of the bartenders. If she is going to sit through small talk with the very haughty blonde, then she is going to need a few drinks and she tells Maca as much. 

In less than two minutes, there are four shots of a cloudy like green liquid being placed before them.

“I don’t do shots,” Maca admits.

Zulema doesn’t answer. Instead, she simply slides the first shot across the table and holds hers up. 

_ God, she’s impossible _ , Maca thinks and so she decides that if it’ll get Zulema to loosen up, then she’ll shoot the liquor. So, she picks one up, holds it up in agreement and knocks it back at the same time as Zulema. 

It is… well it’s actually quite tasty. Smooth, and reminds Macarena of something that she can’t quite put her finger on. As if Zulema can tell, she says “Green tea shots. Whiskey, peach schnapps, sweet and sour and a tiny splash of Sprite.”

“I knew it tasted familiar!”

Zulema smirks, but it’s more out of entertainment than actual humor. They take the second shot together and Zulema is feeling a bit more relaxed already. 

“Your place is incredible,” Maca compliments. 

“Yes. It is.” Zulema retorts. 

“Are you always an asshole?”

“Majority of the time, yes.” Zulema jokes. But Maca doesn’t find it amusing, so Zulema gives her a little more. “But the rest of the time, I’m actually pretty chill.”

“I’d like to meet the chill side of you because the asshole side is getting really old.”

Zulema’s eyebrows raise in surprise. Insufferable as she may be, Zulema realizes she’s not playing fair. Not that she usually does, but what’s the harm in being  _ a little _ nice to the blonde?

“Okay.” Zulema said with finality. 

“Okay what?” Maca replies, arms crossed and cute little brows knitted together. 

“Okay, you can meet the chill side of me.” Zulema holds out her hand over the table. 

Maca laughs. 

Zulema’s eyes drop to her mouth. 

Maca notices.

She sticks her hand out as well and they shake. “Zulema Zahir, owner of Del Sur.”

“Macarena Ferreiro, patron.”

“Well Macarena Ferreiro, the patron, would you like a tour?”

Dimples in full effect, Maca nods. “I would.”

* * *

Zulema gives Macarena a tour of the entire place down to the ridiculously clean, yet bustling kitchen where the food and drinks were prepared and the arcade/lounge for employees only. 

“What’s in here?” Macarena asks, pointing to a black, wooden door without a label. 

“My office. Well, I share it with Saray, of course. Hardly ever gets any use. We may as well turn it into another bathroom or a utility closet,” Zulema tells her. Before Zulema even finishes her statement, Maca is opening the door and waltzing inside as if she owns the place. 

“You have a real problem with boundaries,” teases Zulema, following her inside and shutting the door behind them. 

“So I’ve been told,” a distracted Macarena replies as she starts to take in the modern decor.

“Ever think about maybe getting some? Boundaries, I mean?”

“So, what were you and Saray arguing about?” Maca asks, ignoring Zulema’s question as she makes a lap around the office. She touches picture frames and picks up small trinkets to examine them. 

Hands in the front pockets of her pants, Zulema walks to her desk leans against it. She watches Maca, not out of concern for her possessions, but out of intrigue. 

“Caught that, did you?”

Maca throws Zulema a look over her shoulder and Zulema smiles. 

“It was about you.”

“Yeah? What about me?”

“I asked why she invited the stuck up blonde here tonight.”

“Probably because she’s a good judge of character. Unlike you.” She finishes her lap around the office, standing before the brunette with her arms crossed. 

“Look, it’s not a secret that I don’t like you.”

“I don’t like you either.”

“Good.” Zulema scoffs. 

“Good!” Maca repeats. 

But for Maca, there’s something so delightfully frustrating about someone not liking her. She’s a catch, she thinks, and anyone is lucky to have her. So, she decides, whatever Zulema’s problem is, can't be solved in a night. Or probably even with a year’s worth of therapy.

“Some people just don’t have good taste, I suppose.” Maca says and turns to find something else in the office to focus on instead of the mirth dancing in Zulema’s eyes.

To Zulema, it’s a challenge, really and one thing Zulema has never done is back down from a challenge. So when the blonde turns on her three-inch heels, she can’t help herself. Her body moves on autopilot and her hand reaches out to tangle in blonde hair. Zulema pulls just hard enough to hear the surprised gasp. Her other arm slips around Maca’s tiny frame and brings the blonde’s back flush against her front. Lips against Macarena’s ear, Zulema asks, “Do you want to find out?”

A hand runs up Maca’s stomach, over the valleys of her breasts and to her throat. She breathlessly asks, “Find out what?”

“If I have good taste.”

Teeth nip at the blonde’s ear and Maca presses her ass harder into Zulema’s crotch. Zulema’s only tell is the way her fingers tighten just a little. Macarena turns and takes in Zulema’s face. The way her eyes are black with desire. 

“This doesn’t mean anything. I still don’t like you.” Macarena breathes.

”You’re not on my favorites list either, but here we are.”

Suddenly, the door to the office is opening and Rizos is backing Saray inside, their lips connected. Zulema and Maca jump apart. Not that it matters because the two women still do not see them. Saray’s hand is squeezing Rizos’ ass through the black spandex biker shorts. 

Zulema clears her throat.

Rizos and Saray pull away from one another, busted.

“Looks like we all had the same idea.” Rizos jokes.

“No!” Maca exclaims. “No ideas were had! Zulema was just showing me around.”

“Mhm.” Rizos and Saray say together. It is obvious they don’t believe a word that Macarena is saying. 

“We should go and let you two finish whatever it is that you were starting,” Zulema suggests. “ _ Venga, rubía _ .”

“I’m going to head home,” Maca says, kissing either of Rizos cheeks.

“Wait, I drove.” Rizos says. 

“Yes, thank you for the keys,” Maca responds, holding out her hand for the keys. 

“I’ll drive you home.” Saray tells Rizos. 

“But  _ I _ drove  _ us _ .” Zulema says. 

“Yes, and thank  _ you _ for  _ your _ keys.” Saray mocks Maca, hand out as well. 

“I’ll drive if you’re ready to go now.” Macarena adds to Zulema. 

The brunette considers rejecting Macarena’s offer for a moment. Until she sees Maca cock one of her brows in question. 

_ Oh _ . 

“ _ Vale _ , let’s go.” Zulema pulls her keys from her pocket and Rizos digs her out of her clutch. They swap and before Zulema and Macarena are even out of the door, Saray is lifting Rizos onto the desk.

* * *

The ride to their apartment building is filled with a comfortable silence, neither really knowing what to say. And it’s like that until they reach the landing of Macarena’s floor. 

“Do you want to come in for a drink?” Maca asks. 

“ _ Vale _ .”

Zulema pushes off of the wall that she’s leaning against in the hallway of their apartment building as she waits for Maca’s nervous hands to unlock the door. The digits finally listen to her brain long enough for her to find the right key and when she does, Maca opens the door to the apartment that she and Rizos share and steps inside.

Maca leads them to the kitchen and sets her handbag down on the island.

“So,” she begins, opening the fridge and bending over to look in the crisper, “there’s water, juice, red wine, and I think we have whiskey in the cabinet.”

When Zulema doesn’t answer, she peeks her head over her shoulder to see the brunette is leaning against the island just watching her. She’s taken off her suit jacket and it’s resting on the marble counter. 

She’s slimmer without it, but still somehow her black, long-sleeved crew neck makes her look intimidating. Or perhaps Maca just wants to be intimidated by her. 

Wants to have a reason to dislike the older woman. 

“So?”

“So what,  _ rubía _ ?” Zulema chuckles. “It’s not like you actually invited me in for drinks.”

“No? What did I invite you in for then, Zulema?”

“ _ Vamos a follar _ .” Zulema tells her plain and simple.

“You seem very sure of yourself.” Maca says, arms crossed and suddenly standing before Zulema. 

“I am, and something tells me that  _ that’s _ what you like about me.”

“Confidence isn’t always the best personality trait.”

“No, but it’s the one that’s going to have you bent over this counter begging me to let you come just one more time.” Zulema says. She feels Maca’s slap across her face before she even sees it coming. 

“My turn,” Zulema grins. 

In a flash, her hand shoots out and pulls Macarena close. She spins the blonde around and suddenly Maca’s upper body is pressed against the cool surface, yet it does nothing for her rising body temperature. One hand on Macarena’s back, Zulema uses the other to lift up her body-hugging dress. 

Cocks a hand back and brings it crashing forward against Macarena’s ass. Maca groans and without thinking, pokes her ass out more for another.

“Feels good not having to pretend to be perfect, doesn’t it?” Zulema laughs.

“Fuck you,” Macarena spits out. 

Maca feels Zulema lean forward until her upper body is pressed against Maca’s back. Warm breath at Maca’s ear sends tingles down her spine. 

“I will, but,” Zulema murmurs, “the heels stay on.”


	3. Black Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I split this chapter into two because it became way too long.

_ “The heels stay on.” _

They do.

When Zulema undoes the zipper of Macarena’s black sequined dress and lets it fall to the floor. 

When Macarena steps out of the dress and is left in only her pink thong and matching brassiere. 

And they even stay on when Zulema flattens Macarena against the counter again and uses her own foot to gently kick at either of her ankles until she spreads her legs more. 

Zulema admires the way they elongate the blonde’s legs and accentuate the definition of muscles in her calves. It’s sexy and she has plans of slipping them over her shoulders while she works Macarena over with her mouth.

_ Later _ .

For now, the brunette unclips Macarena’s bra, lets Maca rise up from the counter just enough to slip it down her arms and off. Then facedown Maca goes again as Zulema takes a moment to admire her from behind. She gathers Maca’s arms, pulling them behind her back and holds them together with her left hand as her right hand trails over the curve of her ass. She squeezes before roughly spanking Maca twice, grinning as the blonde groans, and then she eases the sting with another squeeze. Maca pokes her ass out just a little, silently asking for more. So, Zulema gives her more. Alternates between either ass cheek. And then she hears a small whine and Maca shifts uncomfortably. 

Zulema smirks and allows her hand to slide further down between the blonde’s thighs. The moment she reaches Maca’s covered cunt, she can feel the wet spot through her panties. 

“Enjoying this,  _ rubía _ ?”

“Fuck you.”

In quick succession, Zulema snacks Maca’s cunt and then slips her fingers beneath the fabric, gliding two digits up and down her soaked slit. Maca’s knees go weak and Zulema releases her wrists and wraps her arms around the blonde’s waist to hold her upright. She continues to tease Maca with slow strokes. 

Up. 

Back down. 

Around her clit. 

Repeat. 

Until Maca is a trembling mess who can barely keep her knees from bending. Zulema can hear her heavy panting and stifled moans, but she wants to hear more. It’s an internal challenge, really, to see just many noises she can get the blonde to make. And just how many decibels she’s capable of. 

So, without warning, Zulema dips two fingertips into Maca’s entrance and the blonde’s hand slaps against the counter. She pushes back, desperate for Zulema to sink knuckle-deep inside of her. 

“ _ Please _ ,” she begs and it seems to be what Zulema was waiting for because she delivers. 

And not only does she give Maca her long fingers, she wiggles them inside and Maca can feel her against every wall. 

“God yes! More.”

Zulema has known from the moment Maca had banged on her door demanding them to turn the music down that they would end up like this. But she had absolutely no idea that she would be fighting her own arousal as she works toward making Maca come. She had no clue that she would salivate as she watches Maca’s essence drip down her fingers into the palm of her hand. 

And she certainly had been unaware of just how much she would hope this night never ends. Because the blonde is so reactive to Zulema’s touch. She clenches around Zulema’s fingers. Maca claws at the white marble countertop, fingers unable to grasp at anything to keep her grounded. 

Zulema grips Maca’s hair, never breaking her rhythm as she fucks Maca into the island. Yanking upward, Maca cries out in both pain and pleasure and her body lifts off of the counter as her back arches flush against Zulema’s front. 

“ _ Confesialo _ ,  _ rubía _ . You like me,” Zulema chuckles smugly in Maca’s ear. The husky lower octave sends chills through Maca’s entire body and Zulema knows when it reaches her core because she feels her pussy flutter around her fingers. And she knows it’s true.

“I—ohh my god. Do that again.” Zulema twists her wrist, palm up, caresses Maca’s g-spot with her fingertips before pulling back out. “Yes, like that.”

“Say it,” Zulema demands. Maca can’t concentrate enough to form a coherent thought when Zulema strokes her g-spot again. And again. And again. “Admit you like me and I’ll make you feel so good.”

Maca is torn. Zulema needs to be taken down a peg or two, cocky bitch, but for  _ fucks sake _ she’s practically vibrating at the idea that there’s an opportunity to feel even better than she does right now. 

Zulema’s left hand falls from Maca’s neck to her tits and she pinches each nipple with the perfect amount of pressure. Maca can feel herself about to erupt. 

“Say it or I’ll stop.”

_ What?! No! _

“I like you! Zulema, please!” 

_ Checkmate. _

Zulema immediately slams into Maca’s pussy and uses her fingers to firmly stroke at the spongey area on Maca’s front wall and the blonde forgets how to breathe. She comes with a guttural moan and she sees stars, planets,  _ galaxies _ behind her eyes as Zulema holds her tightly and works her through it. A star explodes before her and her pussy flutters once more and she’s pretty sure that she’s still coming, her hips move on their own accord, thrusting back against Zulema’s hand. Her mouth is wide open, her body is taut and tense and she has never felt  _ this fucking good _ in her entire life. 

And then, the world goes dark. 

Moments later, she feels Zulema tapping at her cheek and Maca’s eyes blink open slowly.

“There she is.” Zulema smirks.

“What just happened?”

“You just blacked out on me.” Zulema chuckles. “Must have been one hell of an orgasm.”

Maca smiles lazily. “It was.”

“Come on, let’s get you into bed.”

Maca turns in Zulema’s arms and the brunette surprises her by gripping the back of her thighs, just under her ass, and lifting her up. Instinctively, Maca wraps her legs around Zulema’s waist and directs her to the correct bedroom. 

Zulema deposits the blonde at the foot of the bed, but as she attempts to pull away, she finds that Maca won’t let her go. Zulema laughs in her ear, but it quickly turns to a low moan as Maca nips at Zulema’s pulse point. 

“Ready for round two?”

Maca’s response comes in the form of her tongue licking up Zulema’s neck and then biting on her ear. She dips her tongue inside quickly and Zulema’s fingers dig into the skin of Maca’s thigh. 

“Fuck,” she breathes. With Maca’s legs still wrapped around her waist, Zulema lifts up just enough to pull off her suit jacket and unbuttons her pressed shirt, tossing it away from her. Maca’s hands immediately gravitate towards her tits and Zulema arches into the contact as she unbuttons her pants.

Then Macarena is pulling her down to kiss her. Zulema allows it for a moment, but she has other pressing matters. She wants to taste Maca.

Needs to. 

So she gives Maca one last kiss on her lips before kissing down her body, stopping at her breasts to suck on her right nipple while pinching the left. And then she switches, giving either the attention they deserve, all the while working Macarena up. 

The blonde moans and squirms underneath Zulema. And by the time Zulema’s tongue slips between her folds, Maca is already a quivering mess. She cries out when Zulema’s lips wrap around her clit and sucks gently while simultaneously flicking her tongue around it. She’s still sensitive from her earlier orgasm but that doesn’t stop her from holding Zulema’s head exactly where she needs it as her pump upward, effectively fucking Zulema’s face. 

“ _ Fuck yes! Zulema! _ ” Zulema pulls Maca’s legs onto her shoulders and practically bends the blonde in half as she shakes her head back and forth while sucking on her clit.

Zulema slips two fingers inside and pumps them in and out under her sticky chin. She wants Maca to come for her. She didn’t get to see how beautiful she looked the first time and she is determined to see it this time around.

“ _ Zulema! _ ”

Zule’s dark green eyes shoot up to see Maca’s furrowed eyebrows and opened mouth. She’s bowed forward, eyes on Zulema. And the moment their eyes connect, she can read the unspoken “ _ come for me, rubía _ ” in Zulema’s. 

And she does. Her eyes wrench shut hard enough to summon tears. They slide down her cheeks at the same time that her honey drizzles into Zulema’s mouth. And the brunette groans as she laps up every drop. 

Maca tastes like her future: rich and sweet.

When Maca’s thighs fall slack on her shoulders, Zulema hears, “Come here.” Maca reaches out weakly for the brunette, and Zulema obeys. 

She crawls up Maca’s body and the blonde surprises Zulema by rolling her onto her back, straddling her waist. She scoots down until she’s at the edge of the bed and begins to untie and remove Zulema’s boots. Her pants follow, Maca pouting as she struggles to shimmy them down Zulema’s legs. In only her underwear, Zulema watches as Maca’s hands stroke up her legs and thighs, reaching for the elastic waistband and pulling them down. 

Zulema isn’t used to women taking the initiative, and she doesn’t hate it. It’s sexy to see Maca take charge. But there was nothing sexier than seeing Maca settle between Zulema’s legs, naked ass poked in the air along with her stiletto-clad feet.

And Zulema knew by the smirk on Maca’s face that she was in trouble. 


End file.
